To Make a Difference
by LianneZ4
Summary: When things start to get out of hand, Neal pays Sara a visit and they have a heart-to-heart. AU, set directly after As You Were.


**TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE**

**Summary: **When things start to get out of hand, Neal pays Sara a visit and they have a heart-to-heart. AU, set directly after As You Were.

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><p>Neal ran a hand through his hair for maybe a fifth time as he stood in front of Sara's door.<p>

He was sure this was a mistake. She hadn't been answering his calls since he had last seen her. Mozzie would say that he was being impulsive and irresponsible –

Cutting that train of thought right there, Neal brought his hand up to the door and rang the bell.

_He should have at least brought a flower or something... _

When there was no response a few seconds later, he briefly considered turning around and –

"Who's there?" came the voice from somewhere inside the apartment.

He tried to speak, but words failed him.

He heard the steps as they neared the door.

"Hello?" came from the other side in irritation.

By now, she had probably seen him through the peephole. Neal irrationally wondered whether she had the gun in hand again, because he really had no desire to get shot –

"It's me – Neal," he said at last.

There was silence.

"Sara, please, can I come in?"

Finally, the door creaked open.

"Neal, do you have any idea how late – " Sara's eyes widened as she took in his appearance. "This isn't just a social visit, is it?" she said slowly, with growing apprehension. "Neal, what's going on?"

He opened his mouth and then shut it again. He realized he probably should have changed from his all-black, cat burglar's attire before coming here. But if he had gone home to change first, he would have lost the courage (or maybe the stupidity) to go through with this.

"This isn't what it seems," he said weakly.

Sara sized him up again with an increasingly frightened expression in her face. "What are you doing here? What have you _done_?"

She was beautiful. He had probably woken her up, which was just one more reason to call this all a fiasco. He shouldn't have come.

"You shouldn't have come here. I can't help you. … I can't hide you from the FBI!"

"I don't need to hide," said Neal quietly when her words registered in his mind. "But I really need your help. Please, Sara. Can we talk?"

He noticed the indecision in her face. Finally, Sara stepped aside and quickly pulled him in. She hastily shut the door behind him and locked it again.

Something in Neal clenched and twisted. He had barged in there uninvited – Sara had every reason to be wary of him – and yet she still let him in, knowing perfectly well who and what he was.

He didn't know how he had earned her friendship.

Wordlessly, Sara turned away from him. Hesitantly, Neal followed her to the kitchen and watched as she started making coffee. He noticed the nervousness behind her movements, as a cup nearly fell on the floor when her hands wouldn't quite cooperate. However, when she faced him again, there was nothing soft in her expression.

"Neal, I don't know what's going on, why you came here looking like you are about to commit a burglary. But I'm warning you, I'm not going to let you use me and drag me down with some crazy plan of yours."

Neal drew in a sharp breath. "Sara, I would never – "

"Neal, _don't_," she pleaded. "Just don't."

That hurt.

For once in his life, Neal had really no idea what to say.

"I didn't come here to con you, Sara," he said at last. "I would never deliberately hurt you. And I'm sorry I'm dragging you into this. I didn't know where else to go."

Sara dropped herself into a chair across Neal and enveloped her hands around a cup of coffee. "I care for you a lot, Neal," she stated plainly. "But if you use that against me…" She shook her head. "You have five minutes to explain or leave, otherwise I'm calling Peter."

"Will you tell him I came here, Sara?"

There was a long moment of hesitation before Sara answered.

"No. No, I won't tell him."

"Thank you," whispered Neal gratefully, realizing how selfish it was of him to extract that promise from her.

"Five minutes," pointed out Sara.

"Right."

Neal ran a hand through his hair.

"I need your advice," he said. "If you feel uncomfortable with this at _any_ point – "

"Stop redirecting, Caffrey," stated Sara flatly. "Just talk."

"The thing is, that, _hypothetically_," Neal noticed the flash of anger and hurt behind Sara's eyes and stopped right there. "Sara, I have the Nazi treasure."

"I know," she answered with a sigh.

"You know?"

Somehow, it didn't surprise Neal as much as it should have.

"I've seen it on your laptop. Do you have absolutely _no sense_ of self-preservation, Neal? Someone could have cracked that password."

She was angry and concerned. She had also done nothing with that knowledge so far, and Neal felt a lump in his throat realizing that he owed Sara for this, a big time.

"Look, I'm sorry I lied to you," he said quietly as he looked into her eyes. "I was still trying to figure it out myself; besides, it wasn't just my secret to keep. And I didn't want you getting involved in this – "

"I don't need your excuses, Neal," said Sara softly. "But I need you to tell me the rest of the story."

Neal took a deep breath. "I didn't steal it. When the warehouse exploded, I truly thought it was all gone…"

Slowly but steadily, he filled her on the events that followed. She already knew some, but this time, Neal was trying his best to truly explain everything that had occurred. He told her how he had found the key, how he discovered the treasure and how Peter interrogated him. With a slight hesitation, he told her about the plane and their plans to run, while attempting to ignore Sara's hurt expression. He told her how he had repainted and replaced the burned picture to get the FBI off his back. He told her of the masterly passport and the manifest, about all the deceit and conning he had done so far to cover his and Mozzie's tracks.

_Well, about all the big stuff. There was no need to tell her about the thousand little screw-ups he had committed on the way... _

She hadn't called the FBI yet.

"I made a copy of the key to the safe. Tonight, I broke into Peter's house. I found the safe and made a copy of the manifest."

"So you came to say goodbye?" asked Sara tightly.

"No."

Neal reached forward and took her hand in his. "When I photographed the manifest, Peter called. We talked, and I realized… I _really_ don't want to run. Not from you, Peter, June, the team, this life…" He sighed. "I don't want to look over my shoulder all the time again. I finally have a place I can call home, and I don't want to give it up. Not even for all those paintings and wealth."

"I told Mozzie I didn't find the manifest. That might buy me some time, but I don't think Moz's gonna give up on running with the treasure. He's already planning to fence some of it. There's this Degas painting that's on the list that he already has a buyer for."

Neal's next words were frighteningly intense. "Sara, if the FBI find out about the treasure, me and Mozzie are the prime suspects, and after trying to cover this all up, there is much more to tie me to this than Moz. If they discover the treasure didn't burn – I'm done."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't know what to do."

As he finished his speech, Neal took a sip from his coffee before he rested his chin on his hands and settled for staring at the table board.

"That was a lot more than five minutes," said Sara at last.

"It should be easy," murmured Neal tonelessly. "The treasure is a score of a lifetime. I should just grab it and run. Leave the country, buy the island, be free of the anklet, the suspicion, all this cat and mouse games…" He looked at Sara. "Would you go with me?"

Sara blinked. "Are you really asking me that?"

Neal hesitated. "I might be. Maybe." Then he shook his head and sighed. "No. You've already said you don't live in the clouds. Besides, I can't do that to Peter. Sara, I just want to bury that treasure somewhere deep, and forget we ever even had it."

"And how is that gonna work?" asked Sara. "Neal, you can't hide something like this forever. Sooner or later, the truth will come out."

"And when it does, I'll take the fall for it. Damn it!"

Neal shot up from the chair and started walking around the kitchen. "Why did Mozzie do this to me? I know, I know he meant well, but this isn't a game anymore! Every day, I'm betraying Peter's trust, and for what?"

"You've said it. It's the score of a lifetime."

Neal turned to her and gave a short laugh. "Yeah. The biggest score of the century that is worth billions of dollars and a few lives on the way… Moz isn't gonna give that up, Sara. Hell, _I_ don't want to give that up, and the risks for me are much higher than for Moz. … I know I can't keep it, though… but if I were to tell Peter, I would have to betray Moz and go behind his back. And _maybe_ Peter would still be able and willing to protect me, but I'd be basically sending Moz to prison – for years. Besides, even _if_ I somehow found a way to give it up without implicating Moz and me, how could I do that to him? Mozzie had my back so many times in the past; for him, this is like a dream coming true. I can't take that from him."

"But it's not really your choice, Neal," said Sara. "The treasure doesn't belong to either of you."

"True, but…" Neal sighed. "Mozzie could have stolen it and ran away. Instead, he offered me a _share_ and he's kept waiting for me for months until I can get away with him. Anyone else would be long gone. Mozzie might have dragged me into this, but the gesture… that's _huge_, Sara. Completely unheard of. Given my ties to the FBI, it's practically unimaginable. And yet he did it."

"He also involved you in a crime," pointed out Sara sharply. "Does that mean you still owe him something?"

"I owe Moz for a lot of things," said Neal.

There was silence.

"Do you realize that by protecting Mozzie, you're betraying another friend?" asked Sara at last.

"Yes, I know," said Neal simply.

"Well, then what are you planning to do?"

Neal helplessly shook his head. "I don't know, Sara," he said tiredly.

There was silence.

"It's not even really Mozzie's fault," said Neal quietly. "I could have backed out many times. Even though Moz started this, I can't blame this on him. … And now I feel like I'm doing the same thing to you."

He made a pause.

"I shouldn't have brought you into this."

"But you did," replied Sara. "Neal, do you realize that if we keep this quiet, I could become an accessory?"

Neal's eyes widened. "Sara, I swear I didn't – "

"It's okay," interrupted Sara firmly. "The fact that you'd trust me with this… it means a lot. And I'm glad."

Neal carefully assessed her statement before he nodded. "Okay."

He leaned against the fridge. "So… what now? Do you have _any_ ideas how to get out of this mess?"

For a while, Sara merely stared out of the window and watched the lights outside. Then she got up and walked to Neal.

"Move away."

Feeling a little confused, Neal still complied. He wordlessly watched Sara pull out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She opened the bottle and motioned Neal to sit next to her at the table.

"I think your problem has two parts," she said as she poured the wine to Neal's glass. "Part number one is Mozzie, running away with him and generally keeping his friendship. Part number two – "

"Peter and the FBI," finished Neal with a grimace. "The whole "prison thing" hanging over my head."

They touched glasses and sipped the light white wine.

"You need to tell him," said Sara suddenly.

Neal looked at her, startled. "I can't," he said emphatically. "If I tell Peter – "

"I'm not talking about Peter," interrupted Sara. "If you really want to stop, you need to tell Mozzie that you want out. Anything else is just asking for disaster."

"He won't like it," said Neal with a grimace.

"Neal, you're lying to your partner in crime and you're lying to Peter _about_ the crime," said Sara. "Now, I'm not a con mastermind, but even I can tell that this won't end well. You wanted advice? Well, you need to cut your losses, _now_."

Neal ran a hand through his hair. "Okay."

He sighed. "Assuming I tell Mozzie… what next?"

Here, Sara came up short. "I don't know," she admitted after a while.

They sat in silence.

"Maybe," started Neal with a lump in his throat, "maybe I could tell Moz to run without me. If I gave him the manifest, the treasure would disappear and I would stay here. That way, I wouldn't lose Mozzie's friendship, the treasure would be far away and Peter never needs to know."

He noticed the blank expression in Sara's face. "You think this is a bad idea."

"Giving Moz the list? Damn right I think that's a bad idea," said Sara. "Neal, I know you're already involved, but if you give Mozzie the list – "

"I'd be directly helping him to run with the treasure," finished Neal tiredly. "But if I _don't_ tell him, then sooner or later he will sell the Degas to fund his escape. And then this all will go to hell anyways. Damn it!"

This whole situation was a really bad mess. And _somehow_, he needed to turn this from a clear-cut crime and betrayal of Peter's trust to something at least a bit more tolerable…

"What if I told Moz not to sell the Degas, but otherwise stayed away?" he asked at last. "I know it's pretty dark even for a grey area, but…"

"But it's still slightly better than the other option," said Sara. She sighed and took a sip of wine. "It could work. Is there _anything_ that could directly connect you to the theft?"

"Except for the fact that I have no alibi and the fact that I'm an alleged art thief and conman? If I knew about anything, I would have covered it up by now. The scrap of the painting is gone. Without the treasure, the rest is circumstantial. As long as the treasure doesn't show up, I should be safe."

"You think that much wealth and art suddenly reappearing in the world won't raise some questions?"

"Questions are fine," said Neal simply. "A little mystery keeps life interesting. As long as the pieces from the manifest don't resurface, it will be hard to truly prove a connection to the U-boat… and even _if_ they resurface, they shouldn't be able to connect it to me, as long as it doesn't happen here in New York. Besides, if someone knows how to be careful, it's Moz. He could probably buy half the Caribbean and still stay off the authorities' radar."

"You know Peter will be suspicious if Mozzie disappears," said Sara.

"He already _is_ suspicious. But with the treasure gone, suspicions are all he'll have."

"It might work."

"Yeah," said Neal. "It might work."

A pause.

Neal put his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "I still lose Moz in the process, though. He's been my best friend for years – "

"You have to choose, Neal," said Sara. "Your life as a consultant for the FBI or your life as a conman."

"Peter or Mozzie."

Sara leaned forward. "Look, I didn't want to put it like this – "

"It's the truth," interrupted Neal plainly. "I wanted to have it both ways. And as much as I hate it, it's only a matter of time before it blows up into my face."

The light flickered. Neal looked up at the clock. It was already past two a.m.

"I'm not running," said Neal at last, and there was strong conviction in his voice. "Tomorrow, I'm shutting down the camera on that laptop and I'm gonna talk to Mozzie. Then this will all be over."

"Will you – " Sara started to ask, but then she paused.

"Will I what?"

"Will you at least ask Mozzie to give up the treasure, to turn it over to the FBI?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Neal quietly.

"Why?" asked Sara boldly. "Because Mozzie wouldn't do it, or because you're trying to protect your own ass?"

"Both, I guess," replied Neal honestly. "Sara, that treasure is worth billions and we didn't exactly come forward with it. For months. Besides, Mozzie caused the warehouse to explode. Someone could have _died_ here. Not even Peter would be able to protect us from this. And if we tell him, it might cost him his career."

Sara lifted her eyebrows. "Is that the real reason?"

Neal looked away. For a while, they sat in silence before he spoke again. "Look… I've screwed up before. And every single time, even after Fowler and the gun, Peter gave me another chance. But if I tell him about this… I can't lose his friendship, Sara."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," said Sara steadily.

"Even if I tell him the truth after months of deceit?"

"_Especially_ if you tell him the truth."

Neal gave her a look of disbelief.

"Neal, we _robbed a bank_," said Sara pointedly. "It was stupid and Peter was practically bound to arrest us, yet neither of us is now in prison. If nothing else, that should really tell you something."

"You didn't see the heat it brought in the office," opposed Neal and took a sip of his wine. "Peter lied to Hughes that he had authorized me to try some unconventional ways and that it was more or less planned by me and him. Hughes didn't buy it. He gave us both the dressing down of a century, then he told us that next time I try as much as to steal a paperclip and Peter covers for me, he'll send me back and sack Peter on the spot. If it wasn't for how much he likes Peter, he already might have."

"I can see how that could be a problem," conceded Sara. "But Peter still stood by you."

"He did," said Neal softly. "But I had a good excuse that time. We did it to catch Vulture, so there were the mitigating good intentions. And we told him right away."

"You mean when he caught us."

"Well yes, but…" Neal waved his hand to dismiss that little detail. "We've always intended to tell him. The point is, neither me nor Peter can use that line of defense this time. Keeping that Nazi plunder… there is no good way to look at it."

"Speaking of that," said Sara, "didn't the _Nazi plunder_ bit bother you at all?"

"Well," coughed Neal, "most of it belonged to museums. Of the things that didn't, ninety five percent of the rightful owners are dead anyway. It's not like we've been there and taken it from their homes, right? It has been decades. We're not hurting anyone. What's the harm in making a little profit?" He noticed Sara's cold look and winced. "Sara, if you look too close, you'll find that a lot of the valuable things in this line of work have some kind of violence in their history. Shouldn't someone buy a painting just because the rightful owner was murdered in the seventeenth century? The art is still the art."

Sara's expression was now one bordering on disgust.

Neal dropped his face into his hands. "That sounded a lot better in my head."

"Really?" said Sara sharply. "Neal, that treasure is soaked with blood of thousands innocent people! It is part of one of the vilest episodes in the history of mankind."

"I know," replied Neal. "I tried not to think about that."

"Brilliant," said Sara sarcastically.

Neal looked up and stared into her eyes. "It's one of the rules, Sara. You dwell too much on what you do, you get caught. I can't go back there, you have to understand – "

"Neal, I can listen and try to help you," said Sara. "But I won't give you absolution. I won't tell you it's okay when it's not, no matter what excuses or justifications you try to make."

"That's okay," said Neal sincerely. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"All right."

"All right."

They stared at each other before Neal bit his lip and shook his head.

"I screwed up," he said quietly. "I totally, seriously screwed up. If this gets out… even if he wanted, Peter can't overlook this. I might have been protecting Mozzie in the beginning, but that line of excuse kind of stopped working when I actively began to search for the manifest. That was my choice, Sara."

"You underestimate Peter," said Sara. "I'm sure that if you came forward, he would forgive you – over the time. And he probably would be able to make you a deal."

"Yes, probably," repeated Neal hollowly. "Are you asking me to bet my whole life on it?"

"That depends," said Sara.

"On what?"

"On what kind of man you want to be."

A pause.

"And what kind of man am I right now?" asked Neal curiously.

"A really good conman," answered Sara immediately. "Maybe an opportunist? A thief – and a bit of a liar. … Also someone who has made mistakes and is brave enough to admit it. A friend."

"That's… not exactly the list I was hoping for," winced Neal.

"I could also say you're really good in bed," said Sara deadpanned.

Neal smiled. "Wow, thank you."

Sara's little remark eased some of the tension. They chuckled as Neal poured them another glass of wine.

"So, did I capture your heart because I'm a deviously handsome bad guy?"

"You're not a bad guy," said Sara immediately. "You are a good man."

"Am I?" asked Neal. "How does that mix with the criminal and liar thing?"

"A thieving good man, then," said Sara with a shrug.

Neal smirked.

"Alright, it is a little complicated," admitted Sara.

Neal raised his glass in a half-toast before taking another sip.

"So," said Sara after a while.

"So."

"About the treasure."

Neal's expression fell again. "Yeah."

"Will you talk to Mozzie about confessing?"

"There is _no_ way he would go for it," said Neal.

"So you'll just let him take it and disappear," said Sara neutrally. "You'll continue the charade. You won't even try."

"Well, it's not like it's really relevant anyway," said Neal after a pause. "But – all right, I'll ask Mozzie about giving up the treasure."

"Really," said Sara disbelievingly.

"Yes. I will," said Neal in a very honest voice.

"Now you're trying to cover your ass with _me_," said Sara with a little smirk.

"_Now_ you've broken my heart, _mon amie_," exclaimed Neal sadly and clutched his chest while wiping away a fake tear. "That _never_ even crossed my mind."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before they burst in laugh.

"Fine, Caffrey, have it your way. And for the record, I know that you're not going to really try to convince the little man."

"Off the record… you might be right." Neal sobered up and sighed. "You think I should do this the legal way."

"Absolutely," said Sara calmly.

"I understand. But when this is over, I'll be in the clear… or as much as I can be with the tracking anklet still on my leg."

"Speaking of the anklet, won't Peter wonder what were you doing at his place today when there was nobody there?" asked Sara curiously.

"I don't think the GPS is accurate enough to prove that I was inside his house… As far as he knows, I could have just gone there, realized the house was empty, sat on the porch for a while and then left."

"Really," said Sara with a hint of skepticism. "And why did you go there in first place when you knew that he wouldn't be there?"

Neal shrugged. "I wanted to talk to Elizabeth?"

"About what?"

Neal frowned. "Is this supposed to be an interrogation?" When Sara's stare didn't relent, he sighed. "Maybe I just wanted to ask her for a personal advice – and since you and I have made up, it's not necessary anymore." He made a pause. "We _have_ made up, right?"

"Depends," said Sara blankly. Subconsciously, she ran her finger over the edge of her glass before she gave Neal a sharp look. "So, now you're involving Elizabeth as well. You think she would approve of any of this?"

"Look, Peter probably won't even notice I was there," said Neal in an attempt to redirect Sara's questions.

"And if he notices?" asked Sara persistently. "How do you think Elizabeth would feel if she realized you were using her to con her husband?"

"Angry? Disappointed? I don't know! Is _that_ what you want me to say?" snapped Neal. When he saw Sara withdraw a little, he dropped his face into his hands and then ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, Sara," he said quietly. "That was uncalled for."

Sara gave him a look before she nodded. "Apology accepted."

Neal bit his lip. He stared down at his hands that were playing with the empty glass.

"So, to sum it up," started Sara carefully. "If Peter asks you about going to his house, you'll lie to him. You'll con him, using his trust, me, our relationship and Elizabeth. Did I miss anything?"

Neal raised his head. "I won't lie to him," he said. "I might let him draw some conclusions, but –"

"And you really think that makes it any better?" asked Sara in disbelief.

"It should be. It's not a direct lie," insisted Neal. When he realized that argument left Sara unimpressed, he sighed. "Look, I'm not thrilled about it either, but it's the best chance I have right now, Sara," he said quietly.

"You know Neal, in some ways, you're the most amazing man I've ever known," said Sara in a conversational tone. "But in others, you're a really special kind of a selfish bastard."

"Thank you for the compliment," said Neal sarcastically.

"I meant every word of it," retorted Sara sharply. "Do you have _any_ idea how it feels when someone you trust deceives you? When a friend uses you without even a thought of regret, a word of apology?"

"Sara – "

"It hurts," said Sara harshly. "It cuts into you. It makes you doubt yourself and your other friends; makes you question the things that should be unquestionable because some lousy thief or conman fooled you for his own interests. Every betrayal messes you up inside, and the closer the person, the worse it is."

"I'm sorry," said Neal quietly. "Sara, please believe me – "

"I believe that you're sorry _now_," said Sara. "I also know you'll do it again, and again, and next time, it will be me that you deceive without a second thought and with only a passing regret when someone calls you on it. And then it will be my own fault for trusting you too much."

"Sara – "

"It's the price I pay for falling in love with someone like you," said Sara with a sad smile. "You make dreams come alive, Neal. You're charming, smart, compassionate and brave; you can make people happy by just being there and you would move the stars to help your friends. I love to watch you paint or solve a puzzle. I love that you can challenge me like no other and then comfort me after a long day. I love it when you touch me like I'm the only woman on the planet, I love you when you can make me smile even when I feel like crying. … I love your dreamland, even though I know who you are. I went into this with eyes open. There are parts of you I hate sometimes, but at the same time, as long as you don't leave me behind, it's worth it."

Neal listened in silence.

"But I'm afraid for you. One day, you'll take something too far. You'll burn a bridge that won't be rebuilt, you'll make a mistake that can't be repaired, you'll lose a friend that can't be replaced. I'm scared that when it happens, I'll be helpless. Maybe I'd rather not be there at all than become a bystander when everything falls apart."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I don't want you to leave me out anymore," said Sara with quiet determination. "I can deal with your "alleged" past, I can take the anklet and even most of the lies – but only if you let me in when it truly matters." She took a deep breath. "When you came to me tonight, Neal, I really liked that. I'll protect your secrets and I won't pry, but I need to know that you trust me. I need to know you won't leave me behind without as much as a goodbye. I need to know that this – _us_ – is real. That's really all I ask."

A pause.

"It _is_ real," said Neal resolutely.

"Then that's all I want to know."

A pause.

"Do you think any of this will make a difference?" asked Neal at last. "If I walk away from the treasure now, even after all that time, does that count for something?"

"I don't know," said Sara. "I hope so."

They remained in silence for a good while. Finally, Sara stood up and put the glasses into the kitchen sink while Neal put away the empty bottle of wine.

"I should go," said Neal after a quick glance at the watch on the wall.

Quarter to three. Ouch.

Then Sara placed her arms around his neck. "Stay," she said softly, and he felt her warm breath close to his face.

"Okay. I'll stay."

Then she kissed him.

It wasn't like the deep, passionate kisses from _before_, when Sara was living in his apartment with him. But it still healed a wound in Neal's heart, the wound that he hadn't properly acknowledged before. He enveloped his arms around Sara and returned the kiss. Then Sara broke the kiss, but she didn't draw back. They remained that way for quite a while, just enjoying each other's closeness.

Later, Sara fell asleep with her head on his chest and her arms around him, as if to prevent him from escaping. And maybe that was exactly what she was trying to do.

Neal's thoughts were heavy. The past, the treasure, the guilt of breaking into Peter's home, the impending break-up with Mozzie, the possibility of his crimes being discovered… it all weighed on him. A part of him itched just to wriggle out of Sara's embrace, cut the anklet and run, or maybe go and rob the Met – despite the fact the results of either of these would be completely disastrous.

But he didn't have to run. Maybe, he could truly keep all this – Sara, Peter, El, the team, his flat at June's, even his job as Peter's consultant.

Suddenly, instead of the trapped feelings from ever since the warehouse's explosion, he felt strangely liberated. _He could stay._

He _would_ stay.

Gently, he rested his arm on Sara's back. Then he closed his eyes and let himself be carried away into the land of dreams.

o - o - o

Hundreds of miles away, Matthew Keller had already put the events in motion. He had a good plan to wrestle the Nazi treasure out of Caffrey and Mozzie, and this time, he would be the one to win the endgame. He liked to imagine Caffrey's face after he took the treasure from him and everything around him fell apart. Caffrey had set himself up for Keller's checkmate when he kept the treasure from the FBI, and there was nothing he could do to prevent Keller from achieving his goal.

Neal just didn't know it yet.

THE END

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><p><em>AN: This story has been beta'ed by GrayWolf84, and it's thanks to her quick work that I'm posting this before the show resumes tomorrow. Tomorrow... I can't wait!  
><em>

_As always, reviews are deeply appreciated!_


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